Chapter Three, everyone! ) The beginnings of Moliver, I think, so get excited. -lame dance- Oh, by the way, if any one has any suggestions on what they think Oliver should write about more, feel free to PM me. This doesn't mean I definitely will take your idea, but I need my brain juice to start flowing because I think I'm getting weak. Oh well, just read this and review at least, alrighty?
NOTE: This chapter is a little bit perverted. Hahaha, I'm sorry, but I still think it's a little funny. Maybe I'm just whacko? Hm.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Hannah Montana. And do you honestly think I'd be writing fanfiction if I did? Tsk, tsk.
DEAR STUPID
CHAPTER THREE: BANANAS
Tuesday, December 18th, 11:01 p.m., bedroom.Dear Stupid,
I flat out, to the tenth degree, hate my life.
No.
ELEVENTH degree.
That's right, I went there.
Miley's tonight was seriously one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. And I mean, I've had about a trillion, but this… this just tops it all off with a giant red cherry. Who knew that HOME MOVIES were going to include something so horrible?
I'll make it short and sweet. (And, for further reference, DON'T LAUGH AT THE WORD SHORT. You will understand what I mean in a second, Stupid.)
There was a video with me, age six, running around the beach screaming, "YOU CAN'T CATCH ME, I'M THE GINGERBREAD MAN! HAHAHAHA!"
No. It gets worse.
I was naked. The
Banana and all.
And you know what banana means. So don't make me say it.
Uh, why do I keep referring to body parts as food? Is this a psychological problem???? First pumpkins, now bananas. Geez. Dr. Harms would probably go all ballistic and be like, "You have a mild case disorder of Fruit Syndrome!" or something.
Well, not Fruit Syndrome. That makes me sound like I'm gay.
Oh, but yes, Miley and Lilly have now fully seen my banana. Well, my six-year old banana. I can never look them straight in the eyes again without wanting to shoot myself. Well, at least without turning into the color of Heinz ketchup.
Oh, and Jackson, Miley's crazy brother who should be the one with the psychiatrist, made things worse because he saw this video, too. He was like, "WEE DOGGIES! Look at that little feller!"
Miley and Lilly, in short, were almost peeing their pants laughing.
Then Lilly went, "Oh, c'mon, Oliver! You just watched me taking a bath! It's like the same thing. This is payback!"
That is not the same thing, though. This is ENTIRELY different actually. Because when a seven or eight-year-old girl takes a bath, her pumpkins have not even sprouted.
Oh my God. CROSSING THAT OUT.
But yeah, it's not like I could've said that to Lilly in front of everyone. I mean, for one, you don't discuss pumpkin-growth with your two best friends. Especially when mine both have pumpkins.
Okay. Wow. I just need to shut up because this entry is just as humiliating as the situation.
Stupid, I'm glad you don't have the ability to speak because if you did, I'd take that ability away or put a giant piece of duck tape over your mouth. This entry is not to be seen or heard by, like, anyone. Seriously.
But yes. I'm going to stop writing now.
I'm massively embarrassed.
(MASSIVE!!! YOU HEAR ME,
STUPID!!!!!!!!!) Wednesday, December 19
Gym's shut down today for no apparent reason except to probably irritate me because Heaven forbid my life actually starts going in the right direction. So the P.E. classes are sent to the cafeteria for a study hall. If that's even what you want to call it considering people are jumping around like crazy people, screaming and shouting like monkeys in cages. I'm surprised no one's picking fleas off of each other.
I want to throw a banana at them, Stupid. Maybe that will silence their monkey antics.
AND BY BANANA, I MEAN THE FRUIT!!!!!
Like I'd actually pull out my… banana… to distract them.
Even though that would essentially work. If some kid threw out his banana I'd be like, stunned.
AND I MEAN THAT IN THE MOST UN-GAY WAY POSSIBLE.
ANYWAYS, I need to distract the wild monkeys so I don't have to yell everything to Miley like she's a deaf person or something just so she can hear me.
I'm like, "They look like monkeys."
And she like yells, "WHAT DID YOU SAY, OLIVER????"
And I repeat, more loudly this time, "THEY LOOK LIKE MONKEYS!"
"THE CHILI TASTED FUNKY??"
I decided to save my voice and go, "YEAH, MILEY. THE CHILI TASTED FUNKY," because it did make sense since we DID have chili today at lunch. And it sure did taste funky.
Of course, she yells, "WHAT???" all over again, so I gave up and motioned for her to "never mind".
Yeah, I never knew Miley had P.E. this hour, seeing as at Seaview High School, boys and girls physical education is separated. Which is kind of a downer. I mean, I don't get to see girls in their short P.E. shorts. Mucho sadness.
Whoa. Perverted side of me again. But at least I didn't mention any pumpkins.
Until just then. Okay. Anyways. MILEY.
Miley and I are sitting at a table right now. Lilly doesn't have this hour of P.E. So we are by ourselves. Alone. Awkward. Most likely because she saw my banana yesterday. Okay, that sounds wrong, but you know what I mean.
So, yeah, Miley's trying to study for an Anatomy test she has next hour. Glancing at some of the words she has to memorize, I think I would be studying, too, if I had that class. Well, actually, I'd just pretend I threw up in the bathroom so I could be sent home.
Seriously. What are scientists thinking when they're like, "Let's call this leg muscle Gracilis"? I'm guessing there's an evil scientist in the group that's like, "Oh, let's make up words that make no sense! This way, poor children all over the universe can suffer hours' worth of research and study for their science classes! BWA HA HA HA HA! Now, my henchmen… let us have a Boys' Night Out and go and name bacteria!"
This madman deserves to die slowly and painfully. Perhaps he should get his Gracilis chopped right out of him. Right along with the guy who introduced teachers that it's okay to dissect worms in front of poor kids like Oliver Oken.
Only worm I'd ever want to see get dissected is Jake Ryan. Excuse me, Jerk Rat.
But I mean, really, think about it, Stupid. Leg. Gracilis. There is no relation there. One L in each word is as similar as it gets. Woo-hoo. Try not to get them confused. SARCASM.
At least the cafeteria has kind of quieted because the principal is in here for some reason. This way Miley can actually study without screaming.
Oh, wow. Miley just leaned over (um, dangerously close to my face, causing a most interesting burning reaction in my cheeks) and questioned with a smile, "Why are you writing about pumpkins in your psychiatrist journal? Halloween already?"
I still can't look her in the eyes. Stupid banana.
But of course, out of all the words she sees. I'm a really bad liar, but I managed to come up with some lame excuse that "no, pumpkins are a deep symbolization of a psychology term of emotion".
Which is kind of funny if you really think about the true meaning of pumpkins.
Miley just went, all confused, "Are you suffering from a pumpkin disorder then?"
I don't even understand how someone who knows what a Gracilis is can even ask a question. It's a good thing Miley's pretty.
I seem to be writing that a lot. I'll cross that out in case someone starts getting weird matchmaking ideas. COUGH LILLY COUGH.
And if you're reading this, Lilly, pay attention. For one, you shouldn't be reading my journal. It's my business, and another -- Me and Miley? Um, no. Because best friends? We don't date each other. Sorry. That's risking a true blue friendship right there.
But you know, Stupid, this is going to sound really strange, but I've always had this crazy idea that I'm going to end up dating either Miley or Lilly. I don't know, it's weird, so shut up, Lilly… and --
Okay, sorry, that was slightly awkward. Miley saw some more stuff I'm writing. She went, "Why are you writing about dating me?"
And here's the weird part. I got all nervous! Like I was actually hiding something! When I'm not. Seriously! There is nothing to hide here. Absolutely zero; nada.
Except about the pumpkins and the bananas. No one needs to learn about pumpkins and bananas, okay, Stupid?
Well, er, unless you are a doctor.
Okay, awkward subject.
ANYWAYS. I was all nervous, and she was looking at me like… I have no idea, but it was an odd kind of look like, "Oliver, are you on medication that makes you sweat uncontrollably through your shirt?" But I'm not on medication, and I don't think my sweat has soaked through my shirt yet, so this is confusing.
I said, without thinking and much to my embarrassment, "I just said you're pretty, but I was like, I'd never date you."
Which, you know, puts someone as cool-collected as me in an incredibly uncomfortable situation. You don't just look at your best girl SPACE friend and blurt, "Oh, hey, you're pretty, but we won't date ever."
That's like telling someone that their breath doesn't smell like onions, but they should probably get a breath mint anyways. AKA the situation that happened today in first hour when Lilly was yapping about some guy she really wants to kiss, but can't because she's afraid he'll think her breath smells like onions or something. So, I just told her very honestly, like a best friend should do, "It doesn't smell like onions, but take a breath mint."
I got a very hard slap on the arm. It hurt. I whimpered.
But yeah, I didn't mean to make it sound all insulting to Miley. I just meant it as… Best friends, you know, Stupid?
Well, Miley just stared at me with her giant eyes and cocked her head to one side like a puppy dog.
For a second, I thought she was thinking about the banana incident and that she wouldn't date me or something because of it, so I went all retardedly, like I have no communication skills whatsoever, "N-NO, NO OFFENSE, MILEY. Just you know, BFF! Best FRIENDS forever. Not best COUPLE forever. That'd be BCF!" And then added, to my horror, "HA HA HA HA!" like I had just told the funniest joke.
And I hadn't.
I probably deserve the Biggest Donut award. And I mean biggest.
Besides. Miley is probably still obsessed with Egocentric Mr. Jerk Rat and all his worminess, not my donuttyness. I don't see why you'd like a worm over a donut, but okay.
And I mean that in the most
friendship-wise way possible.
But maybe when Miley smiled
at me, rolled her eyes at my 'donuttyness', and went, "But of
course, Oliver," and went back to her Anatomy-studying, I did feel
kind of sick to my stomach for some reason. Kind of like the chili
from lunch went bad or something.
Which wouldn't surprise me in the slightest -- school lunches are designed to be complained about. If my chili today had grown legs and walked off my tray, I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised. I'd just feel a little like vomiting everywhere knowing I almost actually put the LIVE specimen in my mouth. Because I mean, seriously. What if it like crawled back up my eso… eso…
Crap. As if I'm not a big enough donut already.
"Miley, what is that tubule thing that goes down your throat to transport food to your stomach?"
A questioning, confused blink of her eyes. "Esofagus, Oliver."
"FAG?! I'M NOT GAY!! I HATE BANANAS!"
She stared at me for about three seconds before bursting up laughing. She has been for about two minutes now. Oh, sick feeling in my stomach, go away. Up my esofagus.
"NOO," she finally manages to say through her insane, madwoman giggling. "E-S-O-P-H-A-G-U-S."
In short, I want to kill myself.
Well, this has been a long entry. My hand hurts. And the bell is going to ring for next hour any minute. And Miley is somehow making me sick, like the chili from earlier is creeping up my esophagus. And the monkeys still aren't quiet, probably because no one has even thought of throwing bananas at them besides me, which is an ingenious idea, really, but I don't have a banana anywhere handy (well, besides… okay, gross), so whatever. And I keep banging my head against the table waiting for my humiliation with Miley to end. And --
Holy. Crap.
I just snapped my pencil in two. I'm now writing with a pen, but…
You'll never believe who just came waltzing into the cafeteria.
…So I guess I'll tell you.
The obnoxious ugly, wormy Jerk Rat himself.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Of course, about seven freshman girls accompanied him, all currently drooling over his existence.
He smiled over here at Miley. Or me, I guess, but Jerk Rat doesn't swing that way even though I still think he's a homosexual worm, so Miley makes more sense.
He screams across the cafeteria, "MILEY!!!!"
Miley screams, "JAAAAKEE!?!?!?!?"
I scream, "WORM??!"
They didn't even notice my weird outburst -- that's how sickenly absorbed they are in each other's eyes. He's now sliding over to us like the hideous worm-rat he is.
I am not even kidding when I say this -- CALL THE EXTERMINATOR.
-----
Yep. Jake's back. I know, I know, very cliché, but you will get over it if you love me. Well, this story really. But yes, review me or, or, or else I will let this story collect dust! -le gasp- I know, horrifying, right? SO REVIEW! Rar. Haha.